


Irresistible

by 8BitSkeleton



Category: Funhaus (Video Blogging RPF)
Genre: Crushes, Gentle Sex, M/M, Multi, Pining, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 09:12:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7634500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8BitSkeleton/pseuds/8BitSkeleton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce realizes he has a crush on James in the middle of the work week. </p><p>From there, it doesn’t even take one full week for James to seduce him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Irresistible

Bruce realizes he has a crush on James on a Tuesday.

They’re recording their comments show after lunch, the six of them stood in a semi-circle around the camera and mic, most of them holding papers. Adam walks up and introduces the show and it goes on from there. Bruce is okay with Lawrence going first because he knows it’s good to get Lawrence’s rants out of the way first. While that’s going on, Bruce grabs the hacky-sack off Adam’s desk and starts kicking it between his feet, pointing at James as if to ask _Do I hack it to you?_

The way James meets his eyes and smiles does funny things to Bruce’s coordination. He ends up kicking the sack over James’ head onto the white table. James snorts and goes to fetch it as Elyse takes her place in front of the camera. James hacks the sack over to Bruce again, who, in turn, kicks it towards Adam, trying to decipher why his stomach is doing backflips.

When it’s James’ turn, James walks up to the middle and reads his comment, something about Overwatch or whatever, Bruce isn’t sure, because before he’s done processing the words, James makes a joke and looks over his shoulder, straight at Bruce. The hopeful look in James’ eyes that Bruce will add onto the joke or maybe even laugh is startling. It’s such an open look.

Instead of adding onto the joke or laughing, Bruce gets the very acute feeling that, well. He has a crush on James. He really fucking does.

Elyse ends up adding to the joke, and, as always, it’s a genius addition that makes even Bruce (in his state of shock) chuckle.

By Wednesday, he’s left wondering what he should do about these newfound feelings.

The feelings, they’re kind of a new thing so he has no idea how to hide them. How he should act in James’ presence. Should he change how he interacts with James? No, he shouldn’t. Right? James is married, for one, so it’s not like he could—or even should—make _any_ moves on him. He doesn’t know if James is even into guys, much less guys he’s been friends with for _years_.

But Bruce remembers the doubts he had of _himself_ being into guys and he remembers how they definitely went up in flames after just having one look at James’ stupid, handsome face and thinking _Oh, that’s a good looking guy. That’s not what straight people think about, is it? Well, shit._ And if he’s being honest, Bruce is kind of surprised that it took him this long to own up to his feelings. (Better late than never, right?)

In the middle of thinking about feelings and fire and James’ cologne, Bruce realizes, vaguely, that he is staring up over his monitor and straight at James.

And before Bruce can completely snap out of his line of thinking, James looks up. Meets his eyes. Raises an eyebrow.

Bruce hastily looks away, down at his keyboard, at his hands. He can feel his face heat up from… what? Shame? Embarrassment? Or is it just a symptom of having a crush?

He doesn’t look back up until they break for lunch.

 

 

After lunch, Bruce feels a little better. He moves the chairs by the streaming computer and gets their recording setup ready for an upcoming gameplay. Bruce calls over Adam and James, sits in his assigned chair.

Bruce, while not one to watch and analyze his every move, thinks he does an amazing job at acting like everything's normal; at acting like he wasn’t wondering how James’ lips taste.

He does pretty well, he likes to think. Pretty goddamn well. Only time and editing will tell.

When they’re done, he gives Elyse the footage, and she says that she’ll start editing right away. Bruce nods and goes back to his chair.

At the end of the work day, Bruce catches Elyse removing her headphones and staring at Bruce curiously.

Bruce isn’t going to lie, he feels like an ant under her scrutiny.

He looks away before she does.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, James gets in sweaty from the gym.

_Sweaty. From the gym._

Bruce can still see the drops of perspiration on his forehead. His shirt has a halo of wetness around the collar, the armpits, the lower back. Bruce swears James ran here. That’s the only reason he looks like that. Evidence to the contrary: none. Evidence to support that theory: Elyse, who comes in on James’ heels, looks prim and proper, not at all sweaty, wearing jeans and a t-shirt and boots.

Shining a blinding smile at the office, James says, “Sorry I’m late! My gym’s showers were broken.”

Lawrence quips, “We can smell that, James.”

James rolls his eyes, plopping his gym bag on the floor and rummaging through it. “Oh, as if you smell like sunshine and daisies after you work out.”

Before Lawrence can reply, Elyse cuts in. Drops her purse on her desk and tells James, “Go get changed. You _do_ smell like Oscar the Grouch.”

James nods, clothes in hand. Says, “Yep, on my way.”

As the door shuts behind James, Bruce becomes aware of Adam snapping his fingers in front of Bruce’s face.

Very intelligently, Bruce says, “Huh?”

Adam looks like he’s trying very hard not to smile. “Subtlety? Not your best quality.”

Bruce squints. Grimaces. Says, “Thanks.”

 

* * *

 

During their recording of Demo Disk, Bruce catches onto something peculiar.

Right off the bat, James is… touchy. Like, real touchy. _Noticeably_ touchy. He keeps bumping into Bruce on the shoulder every time he’s about to make a joke, as if he’s making sure that Bruce is paying attention. Keeps laying soft fingers on Bruce’s thigh when he’s about to ask a question or even when he’s about to say something. When he moves, Bruce can _feel_ the movement all along his side because James is pressed so close. Fuck, is he imagining this?

The way Bruce realizes that no, he is not imagining it, is by gauging Adam’s reaction. The first time James bumps into Bruce’s shoulder, and Bruce is startled at the sudden, soft contact, Adam glances over. Bruce doesn’t quite meet his eye but there's a sort of silent, body-language conversation that goes through them. A quiet _Was that? - I think so - You sure?_

By the second and third and fourth time a point of contact happens, Bruce watches the way Adam’s shoulders rise and drop, and it has nothing to do with the shitty side-scroller on-screen. That’s how he knows he isn't making it up. James is being _touchy with him._

Bruce is glad when James waves his hand in Adam’s peripheral and says “Hey, google Muppets porn, see what comes up,” (Elyse’s shaky _Nooo_ coming from somewhere behind them) because at this point, Bruce has a break to decide to turn his brain off and only make jokes for the rest of the recording. He can’t keep analyzing this shit. He’s got a job to do.

It keeps happening, anyway.

 

 

Recording over and done with, Bruce sends the footage over to his own computer. He said he would edit the Demo Disk so he’s resolved to do his best work yet. (He will probably end up asking Matt for help somewhere along the way and he’s fine with that.)

As he opens the raw, hour-long footage on Premiere, he tries to focus on his work. Usually, he watches the whole thing, marks down where he should cut, and then he gets to cutting and requesting photoshops from Omar and Elyse and whoever else he can get to pitch in. He slips on his headphones.

Bruce is not even five minutes into the recording when he watches James, on screen, bump into his (on screen) shoulder. It makes his stomach kind of flip-flop, not only because he remembers what that felt like against his skin, but also because he can _see_ the look on James’ face now. Before, when he was living it, he didn’t get to sneak a peek at James’ face. But holy fuck. Holy fuck, now he can see James’ half lidded eyes as he looks Bruce up and down like he wants to _eat_ him. The way James smiles slyly and turns his gaze away from Bruce and to the computer screen. In the footage, Adam takes a sip of his water and asks “We good?” To which James replies “Yes.” And they clap sync the thing.

Back in the real world, someone taps of Bruce’s shoulder. The surprise of it makes him feel like he’s breaching surface after being underwater for an hour. His brain is foggy. Turning his head up, he sees clear, blue eyes that cut through the fog and make him hyper-aware of James’ hand leaning on his shoulder. Bruce slips off his headphones.

He tries to be as casual as he can when he asks, “Yeah, James?”

James smiles softly. He leans in next to Bruce, his hand on Bruce’s shoulder slipping onto the back of his neck, his other hand settling on Bruce’s desk. Says, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You didn’t seem all there during the recording.”

Bruce can smell his cologne again. He can smell it off his _skin_. He hears the way James clothes ruffle as he leans into Bruce’s space fractionally closer. Bruce’s entire brain is screaming _Abort! Abort! Abort?_

Swallowing hard (but trying really hard not to look like he’s flustered) (which, he is), Bruce says, “I’m fine. I think maybe I slept wrong last night? I did space out for a little there. But,” Bruce’s eyes drift down the line of James’ muscles in the arm he leans on Bruce’s desk before snapping back to James’ face. “I’m fine.”

James’ soft smile grows. “Okay. I’m glad! You worried me there for a second.” James straightens up, letting up the contact on Bruce’s back. Says, “Let me know if you need any photoshops, okay?”

He’s gone back to his desk before Bruce can answer but he watches him go either way. As he looks, he also becomes aware of his friends’ eyes on him. To his left, Lawrence picks up his mug and goes in for a sip, looking like he’s on the brink of saying something. Elyse doesn’t look his way but she’s smirking at her monitor. To his right, Matt raises an eyebrow in his direction and then looks away, back to his work. Adam gives him a Look, capital L.

Bruce clears his throat and leans over to Adam. Asks, “What?”

Adam looks away. Says, “Nothing.”

 

 

It’s Bruce’s job to open the doors to the office in the morning and close the doors to the office in the afternoon. He’s the boss. Sometimes, he delegates, when he has other things to do. Like meetings or doctors appointments or he just wants a break. Which, now that he thinks about it, he should delegate to Lawrence on tomorrow, Friday, Bruce has to—

“Hey, Bruce.”

Bruce looks up. Meets James’ eyes.

James says, “I was wondering if you could give me a ride home? Elyse forgot she had plans with some friends and she had to take a car.”

Bruce makes a point to not look at Adam, the only other person left in the office with them. He answers, “Yeah, no problem,” because crush or not, he’s not a jackass. If James needs him, well, he needs him and Bruce can’t just say _no_.

Across the rectangle of organized desks, James smiles brightly at him. Says, “Awesome, thanks!”

To Bruce’s right, Adam clears his throat. Bruce spares him a glance, watches as Adam shoulders his backpack and gives him a very pointed look that Bruce wants to punch off. Why is Adam so _smug_?

“Later, Kovic.”

“Have a good afternoon, Bruce.”

Adam leaves James and Bruce in almost-silence. Bruce still has to check his email one last time before he heads out just in case he missed anything. He’s clicking around his browser when he hears James move chairs. From his chair across the rectangle to Lawrence’s chair, diagonal to Bruce’s.

Without looking up, Bruce says, “Almost done. Just gotta—”

“Adam’s right,” James interrupts. “You are not subtle at all.”

Bruce freezes, gets a cold chill of shock running down his spine. Swallows. “W-what?”

He’s not looking at James when James speaks, saying, “Your crush on me. It’s really cute.”

What. Wait, what? “Oh.” _Now_ he looks up at James, meeting his eyes where James towers over him. What apparently got set on Lawrence’s chair was James’ backpack. Has James been looming over Bruce’s chair this entire time? What the fuck?

James reaches into Bruce’s personal space and runs his index finger on Bruce’s cheekbone. Says, “Aw, you’re blushing. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush before.”

Sure, his face is hot, but he never thought he’d be _blushing._ Bruce clears his throat, trying to seek out eye contact, to tell if James is about to tell him to fuck off or that he quits because Bruce is a creep. Bruce asks, “You mean, you’re not creeped out by me?”

Shaking his head, James says, “Nah. It just got me wondering if you were gonna do something about it someday.”

Okay, _what?_ Is Bruce hallucinating? “What— What do you mean?”

James raises both eyebrows. Says, “Let’s find out.”

And yeah, Bruce is confused at his words. Still confused when James sets his hands on the armrests of Bruce’s chair. Still confused when James pulls his chair out and in front of James.

Not confused when James leans his face into Bruce’s space. Very _not_ confused when James lips brush over his, the first contact fleeting and electric. Actually very clear on the situation when James’ hands land on his shoulders, grounding him in the moment while James kisses him softly, at first, then with more insistent pressure when Bruce extends a hesitant hand to James’ face.

At the touch of Bruce’s fingers to his cheek, James hums with encouragement and slides his knee in the chair next to Bruce’s leg. Then his other one. And fuck, then James is straddling Bruce’s lap in the middle of the office like something straight out of Bruce’s (more recent) wet dreams. The way James kisses makes Bruce feel like he’s running out of air, each press of the lips heated and insistent—

Bruce hears James groan softly, feels the exhale against his lips.

Keeping their lips almost touching, James asks, “Your place or mine?”

Oh _shit_. Bruce’s brain is lowkey fried by the excess of senses, but a fact glares out through it all. One big question that has his stomach churning in no time flat. He pulls away from James, his head hitting the back of his office chair. Says, “You’re married.”

James exhales and leans back on Bruce’s lap. His hands drop onto his thighs, a few inches from where Bruce has settled his hands. James says, “Okay Bruce, I know this is going to sound like I’m a scummy husband but believe me when I say that Elyse is okay with this.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow.

James continues, pressing through Bruce’s hesitance. “Trust me! She is _very_ okay with this. She actually encouraged me to go after you. Told me all about how you flirted with me all throughout the recording yesterday. I mean, I was there, but it’s cool that she’s looking out for me. If anything, I think she’s sad she’s not here to witness this.”

Bruce takes a second for the meaning to sink in. James lets him have his time, even though he doesn’t move from his perch on his lap. Bruce thinks, _She’s okay with this? James wouldn’t lie about this. He just, he wouldn’t_. That’s Bruce’s hypothesis and there’s only one way to find out if he’s right.

Swallowing hard, Bruce asks. “Is she… Does she really have plans with friends tonight?”

Joyfully, James says, “Nope! She’s at home, she just wanted to set us up. So, your place or mine?”

Deciding on a course of action, Bruce says, “Your place. I don’t think Matt Peake would be as thrilled as Elyse.” This way, if Elyse has a problem, Bruce can find out firsthand. But this is also very inappropriate. But also, James looks heavenly sitting in his lap.

And then the moment’s gone. James pushes off the chair and off his perch and Bruce is a little disappointed. James says, “Let’s go.”

On the drive to James’ place, it all falls back to normal. James cracks jokes and Bruce laughs in earnest, adds on to the jokes. As if they weren’t on their way to James’ and Elyse’s apartment so they could fuck. Everything is _so_ _normal_ and _so not_ at the same time that Bruce is almost expecting to wake up. The _very real_ feeling of James’ lips on his neck is the only thing convincing him that, no, he isn’t in one of his fever dreams.

When they get in the elevator of James’ apartment building, James stands in one corner, giving what Bruce interprets to be bedroom eyes. But it’s James, and it could all just be a big joke. Bruce is still waiting for a punchline, honestly.

As James unlocks the door, he calls out into the apartment, “Hey, honey, I’m home!”

Walking into the living room, Bruce hears Elyse ask, “Well? Did you get some?”

James rounds the corner and throws his keys onto the couch next to Elyse. Says, “Hopefully, I’m about to!” Just as Bruce comes into view.

Elyse is sitting on the couch with her laptop when she sees Bruce. Bruce waves a little shyly. Elyse speaks before Bruce can say hello, saying, “Oh!” Hang on, let me get out of your way. For your sake, I hope the bedroom is clean.”

Walking over to give her a kiss on the head, James says, “Gee, I hope so too.”

“Mm, the lube is here,” She pulls the small tube from between the couch cushions and hands it to James.

“I can’t believe you didn’t put it back after last night!”

“Uh, I was distracted! You can’t really blame me.” She shoots James a smile that Bruce can’t really decipher. “Oh, and use a towel! I like those sheets.”

“You’re the boss.” James reaches the door Bruce knows to be their bedroom. His and Elyse’s bedroom. Because they’re married. And fuck, Bruce feels like he’s been submerged headfirst into their relationship. Elyse just handed James the lube because Bruce and James are going to fuck. Holy shit, what?

Bruce only goes because his feet carry him there on auto-pilot. He sits on their bed while James kicks things into the corner of the room in an effort to tidy up slightly. Now, Bruce is expecting that, well, James only brought him here for like. A quickie. A couple of down-and-dirty handjobs. So Bruce expects nothing more.

And as if on schedule, James sits next to him, lays a hand on Bruce’s cheek. Says, “Tell me if you’re not comfortable at any time. We can stop.”

Not trusting his own voice, Bruce nods.

James leans into his space, angled for a kiss, and Bruce meets him halfway.

Bruce isn’t sure if it’s the anticipation or what, but their second official kiss is better than their first. Gone is the urgency that their first kiss carried, all of it replaced by a slow but steady burn that stokes itself on James’ lips as he kisses with an intoxicating rhythm. Jeez, James kisses _good_. It’s nice. The kisses are nice and they’re making Bruce’s head fog up a little.

He’s not sure if James pushes him back or if Bruce _leans_ back, but then he’s horizontal on James and Elyse’s bed, head on the pillows with James crawling on top of him and pressing their bodies together from lips to ankles. It’s then when Bruce acknowledges the fact that he’s already half-hard against James’ hip. _Already._ All they’ve done is kiss, for fuck’s sake.

James trails his lips down to Bruce’s neck and Bruce is startled at the gentleness he carries. Against the skin of his neck, James murmurs, “Gonna make you feel good, Bruce. Gonna make you feel _real_ good.”

Swallowing hard, Bruce digs his head into the pillows. His skin is thrumming already and they’ve barely even _started_.

He feels one of James’ hands slip under his shirt, running up Bruce’s side and leaving goosebumps in its wake, trailing all the way up to Bruce’s ribcage, his pecs. James slips his fingers over Bruce’s nipple, running over it as he curls his hand over Bruce’s ribcage. It makes Bruce’s breath stutter, the way James grabs his skin, as if he wants more, as of he just wants to _feel_ it—

Bruce feels James’ shifting his weight over him, readjusting himself, and Bruce finds too late that in James making himself comfortable, Bruce has opened his thighs in order to make a place for James to settle between them. Before he processes the implications of having James between his thighs, Bruce feels his shirt being lifted past his stomach, past his nipples, and he raises his arms instinctively while James takes the shirt off him.

Bruce feels James’ gaze on him like a physical presence, his eyes wide and hungry. In an almost reverent whisper, James says, “ _Fuck_ , your fucking body.”

Taking in greedy gulps of breath, Bruce squirms. Says, “You already have me in bed, James. You don’t need to flatter me any more.”

“Yes, I do,” James says, placing his hands above Bruce’s hipbones. “I mean it. You’re gorgeous.” The warm feeling of James’ hands on his torso, going up to his ribcage, then down again. It’s… too much.

He hears James suck in a breath. Hears him say, “Do that again.”

Bruce asks, “What?”

“You bit your lip. Is it that good? I’m only just touching you.” James sounds _cocky_ and Bruce wants to wipe the look on his face, mostly with his mouth.

But at that moment, Bruce thinks this is getting uneven. It’s getting a little one-sided. So he leans forward, props himself up on his elbows and slips a hand under James’ shirt, onto James’ stomach. Says, “You too, c’mon.”

Smiling, James obliges.

And dear god in heaven, _there’s_ a sight Bruce could get used to. James shirtless between his legs and smiling down at him, eyes hungry, hands settling back on Bruce’s thighs. And from his thighs, he moves them upward, to very marked outline of Bruce’s crotch. Bruce’s breath hitches in his throat.

“God, I love seeing you like this,” James’ says, pressing his palm to the underside of Bruce’s cock. “So flustered. Wanting.”

James’ smirk returns as Bruce’s dick twitches underneath his hand. His fingers nimbly catch the tab of Bruce’s zipper, undoing it slowly. So slowly, in fact, that Bruce thinks he’s going to lose it. His hips jerk upward unwittingly, a low groan rumbling in his throat.

“Are you ready?” James asks.

Bruce nods, his throat dry.

Flicking his gaze from Bruce’s eyes to his lips, James says, “Let’s get you naked, huh?”

And Bruce can’t help but agree. “Fuck, yes.”

He lifts his hips voluntarily this time, in order to help James slip off his pants and underwear in one swift move. James’s eyes soften as he takes in Bruce’s uncovered body. He licks his lips.

James seeks out his eyes. Says, “Bruce, I really mean it when I say fucking _love_ your body.”

And in a second Bruce just—melts. Feels so cold when James separates their bodies for a second, searching for and finding the—ah. Bruce’s face heats up as James holds up the bottle of lube Elyse provided them. He clicks it open and pours it out onto his palm. Bruce’s heart beats at a hundred miles per hour. So they’re really doing this.

James leans over him, his fingers slick and trailing over Bruce’s cock, his balls, ghosting over his entrance. He seeks out Bruce’s eyes, looking like he’s searching for something there. Fear? Regret? Excitement? Bruce feels the fingers press purposefully against his entrance and he gasps.

James says, “Tell me if you want to stop, okay? Even if you’re in the middle of an orgasm, tell me if you want to stop and we’ll stop.”

That’s… that’s not what he was expecting out of James. Bruce has known him for a long time and he _knows_ that James is nice, that James is a good guy, but this is… caring. James is assuring Bruce because James _cares_ about his well-being and cares about making Bruce comfortable. This isn’t going to be a quick fuck, is it? Oh jeez, what has Bruce gotten himself into now?

Vaguely, Bruce remembers to nod at James’ words. He is not one to ever keep quiet about things that make him uncomfortable but James’ words are welcomed. They are so welcomed. With a faint smile on his face, James leans back down into Bruce’s space, and their lips touch. Yep, this is totally welcomed.

One of James’ fingers presses in and Bruce holds his breath.

James murmurs, “Relax,” and Bruce does.

The first finger’s the hardest, but James is patient. He keeps reassuring Bruce, kissing him, calling him pet names, and before Bruce is really aware, the second finger’s already halfway in.

“Are you okay?” James asks for the umpteenth time. Bruce says yes for the umpteenth time.

James continues with, “You’re doing so good, baby boy. You’re so open for me.”

And that pet name, that soft reassurance shouldn’t make Bruce’s dick throb like it does. He groans and James slips in more easily.

An involuntary moan escapes from his throat as James curls one of the fingers inside him. “That’s it,” James whispers. “You sound so _amazing_.” He curls it again, Bruce gasps, eyes clenched shut. The fingers scissor inside him, opening him.

“James,” Bruce starts, but doesn’t know what he’s asking for. “James,” he repeats.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby boy. I have to make sure you’re ready for me. I don’t want to hurt you,” James says, slips in another finger. It burns at first, but with James’ quiet reassurance and praise, Bruce relaxes.

“How—” Bruce swallows, his mouth suddenly dry, “How do you want me?”

James licks his lips, looks down at Bruce’s body. The fingers slide out of him and he groans, mourning the absence. James places his hands over Bruce’s sides firmly and meeting his eyes, his voice dark, he says, “Turn over.”

Bruce’s cock throbs at the command. He lays on his stomach, heart beating a hundred miles per hour in anticipation. With his new position, it’s difficult to look at James without feeling like he’s going to sprain his neck, so he’s left staring at the headboard. The bed shifts behind him, and he hears the bottle get uncapped. The sound of the liquid pour out of the bottle. And, _Christ,_ the slick sound of James getting himself ready—

The bed shifts again and he feels James’ presence and weight on him. The head of James’ cock presses against Bruce’s entrance and he feels dizzy from want. “Tell me if you want to stop,” James says, on his haunches behind him.

“Please don’t stop now,” says Bruce, his voice ruined already.

James says, “Okay, baby.”

With a kiss between Bruce’s shoulder blades, James presses himself into Bruce, slipping inside with little resistance. He goes slowly, so fucking slowly, so fucking _gently_ , that it almost drives Bruce nuts. He feels the stretch, the burn, the underlying _pleasure_ of it all as James bottom out, hips pressed against Bruce’s ass, torso pressed along Bruce’s back.

“Oh, fuck,” James breathes out against Bruce’s neck.

James rolls his hips shallowly, testing the waters, grinding into Bruce. All Bruce can manage is a helpless, wheezy moan, a shift of his hips into James, pushing up. And James presses down in answer, breathing out shakily. Bruce feels the gust of exhale against his back.

Hoarsely, James says, “You feel so fucking good, baby boy, fuck.”

And even at that small praise, Bruce whimpers. The sheer amount of honey that’s fallen off James’ lips is kind of ridiculous, but even more embarrassing are the amount of times the pet names and assurances have made Bruce's head spin. He kind of wants to be annoyed, or even embarrassed, or _anything but_ totally lightheaded and weak at the adoration in James' voice.

As James rolls his hips into Bruce, the soft rhythm intoxicating already, Bruce feels so smothered, pinned underneath James’s body, the heat of him pressing all the way down Bruce's back, hovering over him in such a way that Bruce feels trapped, utterly helpless as James sets the pace he wants. The sort of pace he starts with makes Bruce's skin light up and his breath come short.

A moan falls from his lips easily as James fucks him all too gently, with a shallow roll of his hips in and out, never leaving Bruce’s presence. James has set his forearms on the sides of Bruce’s torso, essentially caging him, but the thought that he is at James’ _mercy_ only serves as yet another thing that makes him lightheaded. This is James’ show now, there’s no denying it.

Bruce feels James press a row of barely-there kisses to the space between his shoulder blades. In between the kisses, James says, “I’m going to take care of you, baby boy. Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

The strung out whine Bruce lets out as James fucks him a little more forcefully is almost embarrassing, and Bruce feels James’ smile press into his shoulder. He feels like melting, and is very briefly humiliated by how easily James took him apart before James shifts, moves his hands down Bruce’s arms, and pins his wrists to the bed. Any semblance of composure flies out of his head.

As he gasps, James pauses, eases up, but before he can get the question out, Bruce cuts him off with an emphatic “ _Yes_ ,” rolling his hips up and back, forcing a moan out of both of them at once.

James’ thrusts stutter, slow down, and then he’s pinning Bruce to the mattress with his entire body weight. He murmurs endearments half-audibly into the nape of Bruce’s neck, shoulder, _sweetheart_ and _darling_ and _good, good boy_ and it sends shudders skittering over Bruce’s skin and makes his cock jump.

“M-more,” Bruce manages to stutter out between deep breaths. “More, please, James, fuck me, _fuck me—_ ”

James cuts off his words with a pointed thrust, and it makes Bruce squirm, legs shaking at the sudden action

“Bruce, no offense, but this is how I want to fuck you,” he accentuates his point with slow roll of his hips. “I wanna take you apart like this because I think I can. Do you think I can?”

And James’ low voice makes him feel so _overwhelmed_. Bruce knows that if James keeps going with the praises and the slow, almost glacial roll of his hips, he will probably turn into a puddle. So he licks his dry lips and says, “Yeah, just— don’t stop.”

“Okay, dear.” He goes back to work, with the same pace and everything.

Bruce didn’t think he would be so _affected_ by this slow rhythm James sets but the more they move together, hips meeting, the soft sound of their movement— It makes Bruce _feel_ like jelly, already.

Slowly but surely, the noises start coming out of his mouth and he doesn’t try to stop them. He’s too caught up in the sensation of this being out of his control. James is doing whatever James wants to be doing and it’s out of his hands. The relief of not being responsible for _anything_ hits him like a sledgehammer, so hard he thinks he might come just from _this_.

His cock is aching and leaking, pinned between his stomach and the soft bedsheets under him. James’ pace makes him involuntarily grind down onto the bed, sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine from the gentleness of it all, from the softness, from the—

From James’ lips pressed into his spine, his hands tightening on his wrists, James’ voice a gust of breath against his skin, murmuring just loud enough for Bruce to hear the praises. James is saying, “Just like that. You’re doing so well, you’re so good, just relax. Just relax, sweetheart, good job, you’re so perfect—”

And Bruce feels his orgasm start in the pit of his stomach, his skin prickling at the heat and sweat. He manages, “Ja-James, I-I’m—” before James is speeding up fractionally and whispering, “Come on, baby boy, just like that, come on, come on—”

Then he’s coming, the orgasm almost wrenched from him, spilling onto the sheets below him, pressing his hips into James as an effort to prolong the pleasure. As he moans breathlessly, his mind narrows down to the heat of James’ body, the closeness of him, how _good_ he feels being pressed down by James, being fucked by James—

 _God_ , it’s the best orgasm he’s had in months. James fucks him through it dutifully, his own breath shortening as Bruce’s body spasms. And Bruce wants this, wants James to come too, to come on him or inside him or—

“Please come,” Bruce breathes out, hips rolling back to meet James. “Come, come on.”

“All you had to do was ask, baby, _fuck,_ all you had to do—” James gasps brokenly, hips stuttering, then pulling out, and Bruce pushes himself onto his elbows, looking over his shoulder almost instinctively. Just in time to catch the way James bites his lip as he jerks himself off onto Bruce’s ass, the back of his thighs. Fuck, James looks heavenly like this, his eyes slipping closed, mouth opening into a moan while his hand moves on his dick. Bruce is so glad that’s etched into his memory now.

Bruce swings his head back around to lay on his forearms. He catches his breath and feels the sweat drying on his skin. An incredulous laugh almost threatens to bubble up in his throat. Well, fuck. This certainly happened.

Behind him, James shifts, rolling off the bed and landing with two feet on the floor. Bruce hears him mumble something about a towel and he feels vaguely guilty that neither of them heeded Elyse’s request.

The bed dips again and it’s James, laying on Bruce’s right side, one hand searching out Bruce’s hand while the other wipes a towel down Bruce’s back, cleaning him up. It’s not the tidiest job, but it’ll do, especially with how tired James looks when Bruce meets his eyes. They smile at each other, a soft, fragile smile, and it passes a _feeling_ between them that Bruce is hesitant to analyze yet. James throws the towel off the bed and collapses next to Bruce, scooting over so that Bruce can move away from the damp spot.

“She’s gonna be pissed about the stain but what can ya do?” James shrugs, his eyes closed. Bruce lays his head on his hand, leaning on his elbow next to James, watching as James’ lashes flutter on his cheeks. Their clasped hands lay between them, a point of contact.

Resisting the urge to lay a kiss on James' cheek, Bruce murmurs, “That sounds like your problem. But if you want me to apologize, I will.”

James shrugs lazily. “You don’t have to apologize. But if you want to, go ahead. It was mostly my fault anyway.”

Bruce chuckles. “I’ll consider apologizing. In the meantime, do you want some water?”

“Mhmm, please.”

“I’ll be right back,” Bruce says, shifting out of bed and aiming not to jostle James. When his feet find solid ground, he locates a pair of James’ sweats on the floor that he means to appropriate for a few minutes. As he slips through the door, his eyes taking in the curve of James’ naked body one more time, for good measure, James calls out, “She likes her apologies best served with puppy dog eyes!”

Bruce snorts.

When Bruce gets to the kitchen, Elyse is already there, eating a cup of yogurt. She hums at him to grab his attention and he looks, trying not to look freshly fucked (which, y’know, he _is_ ).

She says, “Hey, Bruce, I know that technically, you’re my boss. But since we’re not at work and this won’t count as sexual harassment, I just really want you to know that I like your moans. A lot.”

And when Bruce meets her eyes as she smacks her lips and smiles at him, Bruce realizes that, fuck. Fuck. James is not the only Willems he has a crush on. Fuck his life.

But the thing that gets him, that really turns his world on its head, it’s not the fact that he had a crush on a married man, his _friend_ , and has only just discovered his additional crush on his friend’s _wife_.

It’s that he still has to tell Elyse about the stain.

Fuck his whole goddamn life.


End file.
